Affirmation
by Teenwitch
Summary: When there's nothing left to loose, there are no obstacles preventing you from admitting your true feelings. GS.


Affirmation

**Disclaimer:** CSI belongs to Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS and a whole other bunch of suit clad millionaires. Since I am none of these things, they do not belong to me.

**Spoilers:** Post-Bloodlines

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The atmosphere in the car was stiflingly quiet. Grissom kept his gaze on the road, occasionally casting a sideward glance at his silent passenger, deliberating whether or not it was the right moment to say something.

Sara kept her dark eyes intently focused ahead. She hadn't said a single word since he picked her up from the police station and she obviously had no intention to.

Until he saw her there, a very strong portion of him had wanted to yell, to demand what on earth she had possibly been thinking to put herself in such a dangerous position. But the other part of him whispered in his ear in an annoyingly distinct voice that sounded much too similar to Catherine's, that he had seen this coming for weeks.

She had become quiet and morose, and she was starting to show very obvious signs of burning out. And all he had done to stop it was ask how much vacation time she had left in the books.

When he had rounded the corner with the officer, and glimpsed her on the couch, he finally realised how little attention he had given her for much too long, and how he had purposefully ignored the beginnings of a problem.

He pulled to the curb outside her apartment complex, and cut the engine. Sara drew in an unsteady breath, staring down as he turned to regard her, waiting for the inevitable lecture.

"I'll walk you inside", Grissom offered gently.

For the first time she peeled her eyes off the floor to look at him, and he saw the raw pain and shame reflected in her eyes.

"You don't have to do that", she whispered hoarsely.

He held her gaze evenly, attempting to convey some level of compassion and authority at the same time. "I think there's a few things we need to talk about".

She turned to face forward again, staring stonily at the darkened road outside. "Fine", she muttered.

They climbed out of the car, and he slowly followed her up the front steps to her door. She reached into her handbag, riffling around for her errant keys, which were obviously plotting against her to make this moment as prolonged and painful as possible.

A woman in her late sixties chose that moment to walk up to the next door, swiftly removing her own keys. "Hello Sara, dear", she called in a sickly sweet voice.

Sara was facing the door rather than her elderly neighbour, and he saw her roll her eyes.

"Hi Mrs Rowland", she replied politely. She retrieved her keys and clutched them like a life preserver, quickly lowering them towards the door.

The woman's probing gaze travelled between them inquisitively, obviously making her own assumptions about their relationship. "Just getting home from work, are you?"

Sara opened her door, glancing back at her nosy neighbour briefly. "Yeah. Goodnight, Mrs Rowland".

Grissom strode in after her, noting her relief to get away from the woman. He would have been amused, in other circumstances.

Sara placed her keys on the counter, striding into the narrow kitchen alcove where she unwound her scarf and placed her jacket on the back of a chair. Grissom stood by quietly, furtively examining her apartment. The furniture was sparse, but she had attempted to make it as homely as possible, considering how little time she spent there.

A twin set of doors separated the living room from the kitchen, and they were covered in bamboo blinds. A counter ran along the right of the door, and on it was a thriving plant. Startled, her realised it was the orchid he had sent her two years ago. Below it was a photograph in a large frame. It pictured Sara crouching at a park bench with her arms around a golden retriever. Sitting above her was a greying older woman and a younger man who looked a few years older than Sara. The Sidle resemblance was unmistakable.

His eyes drifted to the mantle on the wall beside the living room doors. Another picture was strewn in front of a vase of shrivelling flowers, this one of Sara, Nick and Greg. He recognised it as the office Christmas party a few years ago, by the goofy Santa hat stuck crookedly on Greg's head. He had one arm pumped in the air and his other on Sara's shoulder, and Nick grinned on her other side.

He couldn't help but notice that the woman in these pictures was not the woman he knew now. This woman was happy.

"Do you want a… drink or something?" Sara asked unenthusiastically, gesturing to the fridge behind her. She stood behind the counter; hands sliding unconsciously over the smooth surface, as if assuring herself it was a barrier between them.

Grissom shook his head, clearing his throat "No. Thank you".

They stared at each other in silence. Sara was almost daring him to speak, or to explode in some anger that he had so far managed to keep restrained. So he asked what she least expected.

"Why are you so unhappy?"

It was a simple, quiet statement, yet it was so utterly ignorant Sara blinked at him. The energy had been drained from her, and she couldn't even project any anger or accusation in her voice.

"A lot of reasons, Grissom", she said, equally softly.

He pursed his lips, looking uncertain. He was being delicate and sensitive and it wasn't what she wanted. She wished he would yell and scold and tell her how disappointed he was, and then he would just leave. Because if he was prepared to listen then she was just going to blurt out everything and she wanted to retain what little dignity she had left.

"Like what?"

She closed her eyes. "I don't look forward to my job anymore", she said silently.

Grissom frowned a little. Obviously that was a hard concept for him to grasp. "Why?"

She sighed in exasperation, lowering her head and letting her brown locks curtain over her face. He wasn't going to make this easy for her, was he? Why couldn't he just accept her at her word, and leave it at that?

"In case you haven't noticed, I haven't had the best year, Grissom. Things have been… difficult to deal with. The cases are just… they're becoming too much. It started after the explosion and it just got worse after that. I can't focus anymore. I just… I really don't know if I can handle it anymore. Especially when I feel like I'm going nowhere."

"Is this about the promotion?" he asked carefully.

She clenched her jaw, clutching the counter until her knuckles turned white. "It's not just the promotion, Grissom, I'm not that petty. I only wanted it because it gave me some focus to my job."

"The budget for the promotion was cut, Sara", Grissom said quietly.

She stared at him. "That's not… the **point**, Grissom. You and I both know I deserved that promotion. Do you know what it felt like to hear you tell me you recommended Nick because he didn't **want** it? It just…"

She glared at him, and irritably, realised tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. God. Couldn't he just leave?

"That's **bullshit**, Grissom. Isn't that what a promotion **is**? Don't you have to **want** it in order to **apply** for it?" She shook her head, furiously blinking away her tears, and rounded the counter.

"You recommended Nick because then you didn't have to face up to whatever feelings there are between us".

There. She had said it. It was about time, too. All this time he had made her think their situation was in her head.

He looked surprised she had obviously broken down to the core of his doubts, and she glimpsed the mask of indifference momentarily slide away.

She scoffed at his expression, and it was partly the alcohol still in her system that allowed her to go on. "You're not willing to risk your career for me, but you're willing to risk mine".

Realisation clouded his features, and he finally knew that she had overheard at least some of his confession to Lurie. They stared at each other, he obviously attempting to gauge exactly what she knew, she trying to see if she was right.

Grissom slowly stepped forward, and to his credit, he didn't look away from her impenetrable gaze.

"I didn't recommend Nick because I have feelings for you", he said evenly.

She swallowed, eyebrows lowering as she waited for his next words.

"I've seen how you've handled work this past year, Sara. These past four years." He sighed. "If I gave you even more- more responsibility- I know you. You wouldn't juggle the important things. You already skip meals, and sleep at the office. You're too much like me. Work has consumed me. Work would become your life, Sara, and we don't need another me around the office. I did this for your own good".

She folded her arms in front of her, glaring at him. Did he have any idea how sanctimonious that sounded?

"Who are you to decide what's best for me?"

Grissom met her glare head on. "Your supervisor", he answered curtly. "And it's my job to take care of my team".

She flexed her jaw, glancing away disbelievingly.

"I think you should take some time off", he said gently.

She closed her eyes, reluctantly, looking at him again to gauge his full meaning. "Are you going to fire me?"

Grissom blinked. His blue eyes surveyed her slowly. "No", he said. "Of course not".

She licked her lips, feeling suddenly overcome by tiredness. "Fine", she said flatly. "Then can you please leave now. I'm tired".

He didn't move an inch. He stared at her levelly. "I'm not leaving until we figure this out".

She wanted to cry. She wasn't in the mood to deal with this. She glanced at him in frustration. Of all people to witness her humiliating downfall tonight, it had to be him. Grissom, who had at least partially had a hand in it.

She sighed. If she wanted him gone, the best way to do that was to frighten him off. And the best way to do that was to discuss what made him most uncomfortable.

"When I said you had feelings for me before, you didn't deny it", she noted calmly, a challenge in her eyes.

His eyes darted over her. He shifted, still wearing his heavy brown jacket, but she knew he knew what she was doing, and he didn't shy away from her gaze.

"I do have feelings for you", he admitted. "That's not the problem".

She was momentarily shocked into speechlessness. He had actually acknowledged it. But she couldn't even feel satisfied that he had finally said it, to **her**, because it would never be enough with him.

"The problem is that you can't risk your job for me, right?"

When he didn't reply, she unfolded her arms, letting them fall at her sides, and shook her head angrily. She could feel tears well up in her throat again, and she hated him for doing that to her.

"There's no rule against a supervisor dating their employee", she said slowly." I actually checked." She laughed self-depreciatingly and tilted her head to regard him. "At worst it's frowned upon, but they can't really fire you for that. And even then, you've done it before. Lady Heather was a suspect in a **murder** investigation, but you didn't think about your career then."

He frowned. "Oh yeah", she snapped. "I heard about that. I also heard you dated one of your lab techs before I got here. It wasn't a problem then, either".

"Sara", Grissom interrupted. He suddenly looked very weary and she recognised the mask of nonchalance ready to pass over his face. Yet he also kind of looked like he had gone over this in his head a million times, and the thought that he had made her pause. "You're directly under my employment", he said gently. "Anything that happened to you professionally-"

She had to roll her eyes. "Nothing is happening to me professionally **now**, Grissom. What difference would it make? As for you? Have you ever realised that the lab won't touch you? You're too important. You're one of the only entomologists in the country and you chose to work here. You're an asset. If anything, the lab makes exceptions for you. How many times have they ignored Warrick's gambling or Catherine's personal connections because of you?

"Face it, Grissom, your career is not the problem here. All I can think of is that I'm just not worth the risk".

She seemed to deflate after saying all of this, and her shoulders slumped. She waved vaguely for the door. "Can you just leave now? Please?" Her voice was small and powerless, and he watched the transformation with sorrow.

He didn't move. He couldn't. "Sara-"

She frowned. "I won't come into work tomorrow, so don't worry about that."

"Sara".

Her head whipped up impatiently. "What?"

He captured her lips in a kiss that caught her so much by surprise, she couldn't breathe, let alone react. Her hands hung limply by her sides she was so paralysed by shock, but slowly she met his insistent probing in return, unable to believe the passion that came from the contact between them.

His hand slid around to clasp her waist, and she felt the cold edge of the counter as her back pressed against it. When he at last pulled back, she felt his hot breath tickle her face, and her own came out in short, uneven gasps. Her brown eyes blinked up at him, mouth slightly agape, shock colouring her features.

"You're worth the risk", he said quietly.

He kissed her again, but this time it started out soft and tender, leaving no doubt of his intentions. She was warm and soft against him, and she melted against his frame. If he had known kissing Sara would make him feel this alive, he would have done it sooner.

His hand slid up to cup her face, and their kiss quickly became more passionate again. His palm dug into the curve of her waist as he pulled her closer, savouring the smoothness of her cheek and the gentle, sultry taste of her mouth against his. The bristles of his beard tickled her flesh as he trailed his mouth over the curve of her neck and she thought she might have emitted a moan.

She felt her heart race as Grissom stroked her cheek, placing a more languid kiss on her check, then her mouth. "Do you want to go to your bedroom?"

Sara licked her lips, opening her eyes slowly. Her earlier embarrassment and anger was forgotten. She couldn't believe he had just… done that.

She saw the years of pent-up desire, and something else, something softer and loving, reflected in his gaze and nodded. To say they were moving too fast would be ridiculous. They had known each other for ten years, and this was just a stage in their relationship there was no turning back from. "Yes".

He looked somewhat hesitant, which she found rather sweet, but he was gazing down at her in a way she had sometimes glimpsed briefly in the lab, only this time it was completely unguarded. "Are you sure?"

She covered his hand on her waist, lacing her fingers through his, meeting his gaze square on.

"I've always been sure about this".

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End file.
